


The Sorrow In My Blood

by mansikka



Series: Shade Falls On Us [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Caring Magnus Bane, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Injured Alec Lightwood, M/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, POV Alec, Worried Magnus Bane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-26 12:16:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: Alec wakes up from his coma-like state still weakened, and Magnus is on hand to help him all he can. But there's things they need to discuss about what's happened to Alec, and what the future might involve for him - however long they try to avoid talking about it.





	The Sorrow In My Blood

**Author's Note:**

> Hello :)
> 
> There's a smidge of smuttiness in this one, though you probably already knew that from the tags, didn't you... ;) hopefully this brings a reprieve to all the angstiness so far...
> 
> x

“Don’t move too much,” Magnus says, though it’s muffled since it’s pressed firmly into his neck. They’ve been laid together unmoving for what feels to Alec like hours, but that still doesn’t seem like long enough.  

He can’t get over the warmth of having Magnus in his arms, pressed right up against him like he has no intention of ever letting him go again. Which is fine by him, Alec thinks, stroking his hand wide down the length of his back. Magnus shuffles into him like he wants to get even closer, and Alec can find no objection to that either.

“How long…” he starts to say, struck with a sudden dryness in his throat. He clears it, coughing painfully, and tries again, even as Magnus is lifting his head up. “How long was I gone?”

Alec keeps his question vague, because he doesn’t really want to think about where he was gone to, or how long he’s been away.

“Too long,” Magnus answers, his eyes falling to the way Alec’s swallowing, and dragging himself up to his knees, though still holding on to his waist as though he can’t bear to let him go. “Thirsty?”

“I think so,” Alec says, glancing down at himself and expecting to find little but skin and bone. He can't remember the last time he ate, though surprisingly doesn't feel hungry in the slightest.

“I… kept you fed,” Magnus admits, looking guilty of all things when he adds, “made sure you had… nourishment,”

“Thank you,” Alec tells him, injecting as much warmth into it as he can, sitting up slowly and raising a shaky hand to cup his face, a lump rising in his throat for the way Magnus leans into it, covering it with his own as his eyes drop closed.

“I missed you so much,” Magnus tells him, through trembling lips and croaked out voice, and the only thing left for them both to do then is fall into a long overdue hug. Magnus wraps his arms around him and cries quietly into his shoulder, and Alec can’t help doing the same, both leaving damp patches in each of their shirts and shuffling ever closer, as though by doing so they might be able to slip into each other’s skin.

There’s time for that, Alec thinks to himself with a long, relieved sigh, there will always be time for that.

“What do you want to drink? Water? Juice? Tea? Anything you want,” Magnus says, still muffled into his shoulder, and still offering Alec the entire world in his hand, as he always does; even if right then the entire world is merely something to parch his thirst.

“Water, I think,” Alec replies, allowing himself to raise his head and press a kiss to Magnus’ cheek, “I think I… I think I wanna stand,”

“It might be too soon,” Magnus warns him, leaning back a fraction to cradle Alec’s face in his hands and stare at him beseechingly, “you might not be strong enough,”

“Just to the kitchen. Only that far,”

Magnus stares back at him for another second then nods, relenting, slipping off the bed and holding out both of his hands. Alec reaches out, hoping his legs are stronger than they feel, teetering over the edge of the bed as he steadies himself in Magnus’ waiting arms.

His legs feel both as though they are there physically beneath him, and still suspended in that other place, and it takes him a couple of seconds to coordinate them enough to stumble forward, still in Magnus’ grip, because he’s only taking the smallest of steps backwards to guide him. It takes an age to get to the kitchen, and even there Alec sinks down with such relief onto a waiting stool, that he's not sure how he’s going to stand up again.

Magnus waits until he nods to say he’s okay, then turns away cautiously, and Alec listens as he moves behind him, pictures the glasses he’s pulling down from the cupboard, wonders if the fridge is stuffed with all of his usual favorite things. He hears Magnus pull the bottle out and crack the cap open, smiles for the knowledge that he’s at least kept the place stocked, which he hopes means that Magnus has been eating in his absence. He can’t do anything about the deep dark circles beneath his eyes and all the sleep he must have missed, but if he’s at least eaten, it’s one less thing for him to feel guilty about.

“So,” he says, clutching at the glass in his hand and beginning to raise it, “what’ve I missed?” But he doesn’t listen for an answer, that raging thirst in him roaring its presence the moment water hits his tongue. Magnus refills the glass another two times until his thirst is slaked, and only then takes a sip from his own glass, sliding down on the stool beside Alec and reaching for his hand.

“I don’t honestly know,” Magnus tells him, offering up the sweetest of bittersweet smiles, “it’s been a while since I have been outside the apartment,”

Alec’s heart jolts at that, and he puts down the glass he’d refilled for himself on deciding he was still thirsty after all, so he can cup his face again. “You… stayed here the whole time?”

“I couldn’t leave,” Magnus whispers, his lip beginning to tremble, and tears starting to bead up in his eyes, “I couldn’t leave you,”

“Magnus—”

“I couldn’t leave you alone like that. I—”

Alec wraps Magnus up in his arms again as his words fail him, closing his eyes at the feel of his hair beneath his fingertips as he cradles the back of his head. Magnus shuffles into him, burying himself in ever closer, and Alec does his best to give of himself in equal parts. But then he’s struck with the reminder that he’d forgotten Magnus when he was stranded, yet despite that he’d been the only thing he had to cling on to. And all his own personal sorrow for what he’s been through, the guilt he has for forgetting, and the ache he still carries for missing Magnus so much, rears itself up enough to choke him, and he’s squeezing Magnus so tightly back he’s sure there will be bruises on either one of them before the day is out; not that he can find it in himself to care.

“Magnus,” he cries, whispering it desperately over and over, into his jaw, his neck; anywhere he can get to, his heart racing for his own name being muttered in return. And it is then that certain things feel very overdue between them. Alec pulls back a fraction, raises his hands to cup Magnus’ face, and lets his eyes fall to Magnus’ lips in insinuation. Waiting because he doesn’t want to overstep.

“Alexander,” he hears, but then Magnus is kissing him, claiming his mouth with such ferocity, and need, it feels impossible to give enough of himself back. But he tries, oh, how he tries, stroking his thumbs over his cheeks to catch errant tears as they fall, molding and moving his lips against Magnus’ to relearn the taste and shape of him, pressing himself ever closer to him and moaning softly for the way Magnus is doing the exact same thing back.

The need he has for Magnus then is overwhelming. It’s probably too soon, and he’s probably too exhausted, but if he doesn’t at least get Magnus’ skin against his in the next few minutes, it’s very possible that he’s going to come undone.

“Magnus,” he says, the need in his voice so raw there’s no way for Magnus not to have heard it, and then he’s raising his head to look back at him with the same hunger, surging forward to kiss him harder still, then tumbling them backwards with a quick flourish of his hand to land them on their bed.

There is nothing between them. Greedy hands claw and grab, trying to map out every inch of skin. Teeth graze at necks and jawlines, and as Magnus settles between his legs, knocking their hardnesses together, Alec throws back his head with a fierce groan before raising it and staring down, having convinced himself he might not see, or feel, Magnus like that with him ever again.

Magnus is watching too, up on his knees and palms braced against the bed, rolling his hips so his cock is gliding up the length of Alec’s, his breath stuttering out of him with something somewhere between a groan of pleasure and sob of longing.

He sinks down after a couple of strokes, eyes fluttering closed at the feel of them together, and Alec is helpless but to slide his hands up his sides, then grip them around his lower back to keep him in place as they work out a rhythm together.

“Alexander,” he hears choked out, and Magnus is shifting a little, balancing on his elbows and forearms so that he can cradle his face, staring down at him in utter wonder. What is Alec to do but stare that same wonder back, part his legs a little further so Magnus can sink a little easier, and roll beneath him until Magnus is stuttering out his name for a second time, then falling forward and claiming his mouth.  

They’re done in minutes, that desperation leaving them panting, and in Alec’s case, boneless, hit by such a sudden wave of exhaustion that he feels like the room might be spinning even though he’s flat on his back in the center of their bed.

“Are you okay?” Magnus whispers frantically into his ear, and when Alec next opens his eyes, it’s to Magnus knelt over and staring down at him, equally frantic hands searching him over and lingering over his heart, as though Magnus is afraid to find it’s no longer beating.

Alec has no time to think about that, though, because another wave of exhaustion is cresting. He has just enough time to roll them to the side, bury himself into Magnus’ chest, and kiss a couple of absent _I love_ _you_ s there, before the blackness comes to claim him once again.

* * *

 

When Alec wakes, it’s to fingertips trailing down the length of his arm, and repeated kisses being pressed into the crown of his head.

“Magnus?” he says, which is a little ridiculous considering there is no one else he’d be laid here like this with, but it feels good to say his name anyway; it feels like far too long since he’s been able to say it out loud.

“How are you feeling?”

Magnus sweeps his palms up over Alec’s skin and gathers him closer, and Alec stretches languidly, luxuriating in the feel of Magnus beneath him.

“Better now,” he says, earning himself a small huff and a further kiss to his hair, but it’s not enough; Alec drags himself up as much as he is able and leans down over Magnus to claim himself a kiss. And as though he can sense the oncoming tremble in his arms, Magnus rolls them until they are side by side, wrapping a hand around Alec’s hip so he can’t pull back too far.

“Alexander,” he begins to say in that teasing, chiding tone of his, smiling so wide Alec just has to echo it, “I—”

But Alec cuts him off with another kiss, rolling forward a fraction, and when his arm feels too weak to lean on, sighing as Magnus takes the hint, and rolls him half over onto his back.

“Good morning,”

“Good morning,” Magnus repeats, humming it against his lips and wriggling a little closer, “I’ll ask again; how are you feeling?”

“I’m laid in bed with you,” Alec smiles stretching against him again, deciding that he will never get enough of feeling Magnus against him. “I’m thinking I’m feeling pretty good,”

Magnus’ amused smile sends his heart soaring, and Alec takes it as invitation to kiss him all over again.  

Cocooned there in soft sheets and Magnus’ arms, Alec can quite happily forget there is an outside world, a place of duty that awaits him, a role he’s supposed to perform. He pushes the reminder back every time it tries to reach the surface, not even wanting to think about the Institute and what’s waiting for him there, though knowing there has to be a lot to talk about regarding that.  

Neither does he want the reminder that he _forgot_ Magnus when he was gone. Took days to even get an impression of a memory of him, and even then it took longer still to know he was the reason he was fighting to get back.

That he forgot Clary as well, Alec thinks to himself with a guilty grimace, is probably less of a surprise, given he’s known them both a similar amount of time compared with everyone else in his life, but still. He and Clary got over their differences—his prejudices—so long ago now, that whilst he can’t bring himself to think of her as a sister, she has earned her place by his side as his friend; someone else he should not be able to forget.

“What are you thinking, my love?” Magnus whispers, kissing it into his brow, stroking a hand up the back of his neck so softly it makes Alec’s eyes fall closed, and a contented sigh blast out of his mouth.   

“Nothing,” he denies, turning and capturing Magnus’ lips as he moves, “everything,”

“That sounds complicated,” Magnus teases, and the playfulness in his tone, the joyfulness in his eyes, makes Alec want to forget everything else, to continue to push aside his responsibilities and duties, take a little more time with the man he loves, and delay finding his way fully back.

Alec jolts at the thought, scared for a moment that he isn’t quite all the way back from where he’s been, but Magnus reassures him with further kisses, tender strokes of his fingers that leave Alec sighing, sinking ever deeper into the security of Magnus’ arms.

He knows it can’t last indefinitely. He knows there’s only so long he can deny the inevitable, and that they’ll soon have to talk. But for now, he’s content to lose himself in a rain of kisses and cocoon of love. Alec lets himself have exactly what he wants for himself just this once, just this moment, feeling that whatever he’s been through, he’s earned this reprieve more than enough.

* * *

 

Something is different in him.

Alec can’t put a name to what it is that’s different, but there’s a sensation stirring in his very blood that doesn’t feel like it belongs.

It’s not like the residual, lingering leftovers of the few ailments that have hit him over the years, nor is it like the softening and numbness that his experiences with alcohol bring. He can’t even tell at this stage if it is a good or bad feeling, but that he knows it’s there and can’t see it—can’t identify it—is a little disconcerting.

Alec tries to avoid making eye contact in the mirror whenever he uses the bathroom, convinced that he’s going to see something else there staring him back.

Magnus knows about it.

Alec’s able to count how long he’s been awake still in hours, and even in that short stretch of time he’s aware of Magnus’ eyes following him. He expects it in a lot of ways, and sees it in some of his looks; Magnus is so relieved that he is back, so overwhelmed to have him there next to him, that he keeps having to check him over. Alec’s sure he hasn’t been without Magnus’ hands on him for more than a total of five minutes in the entire time he’s been back.

But there’s something else about his looks for him that’s making Alec cautious. A worry that’s peeking out just around the corner of his eyes. It’s setting his mouth into a troubled line, and clenching his jaw with an unidentifiable tension, and if Alec wasn’t so weary, and wary, and worried himself, he’d probably call him out on it.

He doesn’t, however. Instead indulges in all this extra closeness between them. They’re usually cocooned together when they’re home alone like this anyway, but the need for it between them is different. It’s like he needs Magnus’ skin on his to feel whole.

Or to be touching him in some way, at least; kind of like he’s doing now.

Magnus Bane with his guard down is a sight like nothing else.

It’s not just for the way he’s laid out bare before him, pliant under Alec’s touch and so sensitive to every caress that he’s arching up off the bed repeatedly; not just for that. Or when he lets lust-filled languages slip from his tongue with every stroke of Alec’s hand over his cock, and looks back up at him with unashamedly catlike eyes like Alec’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

But all of these things, combined with when he tells him openly how much he’s enjoying what he’s doing to him; how it feels, how close he’s getting, how unafraid he is to ask for even more—all of these gestures that reveal his openness to Alec make Magnus breathtaking. Alec’s sure he is biased, and yet is also sure that he isn’t; a writhing, panting, groaning Magnus is exquisite, incomparable, and indescribably beautiful.

That he’s been deprived of seeing and feeling all of this for so long, Alec thinks, is surely a crime.

Alec knows he’s going to pass out after this. He’s exhausted for doing little more than breathing currently, yet the slip of Magnus’ slicked up cock between the grip of his fingers gives him all the motivation necessary to keep going. He wants to give him this, needs to know he still has the power to please Magnus in this way at least, which is silly, he knows. Yet Alec’s brain is so jumbled currently, that everything feels necessary all at once, both like he’s making up for lost time and also taking that which might be snatched from his grasp before he’s quenched his need for it.

Alec doesn’t think his need for Magnus will ever truly be quenched, but still. The sentiment feels true enough.

“Alexander,” Magnus calls out then, desperate, broken, arching up so beautifully that Alec feels all the privilege of Magnus allowing him to see him like this. He milks him of it, feeling the pulsing tremble against his palm, watching the rippling of his stomach, the way his mouth gapes open even as his head rolls back against the pillow before a final slump.

It’s like he’s taken Alec’s strength with him as he does.

Alec topples forward from where he’s been sat between Magnus’ splayed legs, never bothered by the mess pooling between them, yet in that moment unable to stop himself even if he was. He lands on Magnus’ chest with an _oomph_ , groans brokenly into his shoulder, comes barely seconds after Magnus just wraps his fingers around him at an awkward angle between them, then falls to his side, mumbling out a slurred _thank you_ at the flourish of Magnus’ fingers to clean them up, that he knows is happening without even needing to open his eyes.

That unsettled feeling stirring through him returns with a little force then, an uncomfortable cramping sensation in his veins like his blood’s being backed up. But then he’s released again, snuggles closer to Magnus as he too turns on his side. Wraps his arms around him when Magnus rolls them until he can lay on Alec’s chest, and mumbles an _I love you_ before succumbing to sleep once again.

 


End file.
